A Story by Tank, as told to Tricia.

Once upon a time there was a big wolf jumping in the water and it didn't die. It float. And the wolf was poinking people. And him flied and flied and him didn't fall. And him the wolf poinked the computer. He hit the computer with a growly voice. He chopped and made food. And him eat his food and him get candy. And him tummy full. And him jumped out of the window and him got on the counter and tried to get his phone number. And him go to Applebee's. And him got drums. He punched and his pillow got broken. He said, "Gawbookuh!" And him freaked out. The End

(note from Tricia: "poink" in our family is a hybridization of the words "poke" and "point". For example, a porcupine is covered with poinkies or "be careful with that pencil, you almost poinked me.")

If only we all were so honest...

Sometimes my kids can totally surprise me. Well, actually they totally surprise me with messes, destruction and inappropriate comments and questions all the time. Let me rephrase.

Sometimes my kids act in such sweet and/or responsible ways that I am completely amazed. (Much better and more accurate) Last night it was Scoochy.

Dug and I were on our respective computers doing computery things when Scoochy came down the stairs in a heap of tears. She's a very sensitive one, prone to overreact, and I have to be careful not to trivialize how she responds to situations. I wasn't careful last night. As she walked up to me I immediately sent her to her dad. (I'll be honest, I didn't want to deal with her.) After some hard to understand sentences, (You know how it is when you're crying. Your voice is a few octaves higher and there are irregular breathing gasps sprinkled throughout.) Dug asked what she thought should happen, Scoochy responded with more tear-filled, unintelligible words. I was over at the dining room table hearing just enough to pique my curiosity and paying just enough attention to not know what was going on. Dug called me over.

Dug: Scoochy has something she wants to tell you.

Scoochy: Mommy, I've been lying about something for a very long time.

Me: What is it, sweetie?

Scoochy: I've been stealing lots of candy for a long time.

Me: Where from? (Thoughts of under-floorboard hoards filled with hundreds of candy bars, the work of months of shoplifting, fill my mind. Should we return them? throw them away? eat them? My mind is reeling as I look at my little criminal. Is this how it's going to be now? Dug and I nervously looking at each other whenever a police siren passes?)

Scoochy: From the candy bowl. (I let out a sigh, releasing the stress only a parent whose child has been acquitted could understand.) Do you remember Dodge's gummy worms? The ones that Tank got in trouble for eating? I ate them. I snuck into the candy bowl and ate lots of candy. I just need to tell you. I don't want to lie anymore.

Dug: I asked her what she thinks should happen now. What do you think, Scoochy?

Scoochy: No more sweets or dessert until Christmas. (Ouch.)

Me: Wow! That's a punishment. (I was just about to suggest a lighter sentence when Dug spoke up.)

Dug: Okay, no sweets or desserts until Christmas. (Dads...without them our kids would be wussies.)

Then, Dug and I helped Scoochy ask God for forgiveness and strength to do the right thing in the future. Can you believe it? Her little heart couldn't take it anymore. She had to come clean. When our kids respond to their guilt in such a contrite and humble manner, it amazes me. It becomes one of those moments where they become the teachers and, if we are wise and let ourselves, we become the students.

Scoochy can read really well now. She just walked in a few minutes ago and started reading what I had typed. At first she didn't want me to share this story with you. But when I told her that people would think highly of her for being honest and making the right choice, she gave me permission. I don't think it would be so easy for me to lay out my mistakes for all to see, even if it did end with a good final decision. Ahhh...chalk one more up for children.

Beware the curious Tank

I was going to the bathroom today when Tank walked in. (What mother gets to pee by herself anyway?) He looked at me and pointed to my stomach, which just happens to have a wee bit of flab left over from my pregnancy with him and sitting on a toilet is such an advantageous position.

Tank: What's that Mommy?
Me: That's my tummy, Tank. (pppbbbbttt...you can hear my ego deflating.)
Tank: No, Mommy, what's that? (pointing to my tummy roll, yet again.)
Me: It's my stomach. (ssssssssss...ego deflation is now complete.)
Tank: Oh. (He walks up to me, lifts the back of my shirt and stares intensely at my back.) Where's your horn?

What?! My horn?! Who or what does he think I am? Dug was in his office which just happens to be right next to the bathroom. He overheard the whole thing and by that time was at the door laughing and trying to escort Tank out of my reach. Wise move on Daddy's part.

Later, I was talking to Tank and trying get him to explain what he meant, but by that time he had forgotten the whole episode. Argh! Three year olds. Tell them they can have candy when they get home and the mind is a steel trap. But have them recall a conversation from five minutes ago...nada.

Oh well, maybe it's best I don't know...best for Tank, that is.

Scoochy and her cats

i have a little cat and a momcat. the babycat has brown spots. the momycat is wite. i like my cats. my cats are 3 and 25 and make shuer your age is not 200. the end

Words from Princess Cutie Pops (as dictated to Tricia)

I got lots of candy at Halloween. I wonder how you are doing, Nana. I wonder how you're doing, Poppa. I like my pegasus. It's a purple pegasus. It's a stuffed animal. It looks like a normal pegasus. I like it. I got it for my birthday. Andrea gave it to me. I like to play with my pegasus. I make her real-life by playing with it.

I like Pancake. I got her from Alaska. She's a doll. She has a face that's as round as a pancake. I like playing with my doll, Pancake. I have a ducky. I named my ducky, Josh. My ducky's white with an orange beak and orange legs. And I have a pig. It has a heart and it has rainbow colors on it. I have a heart on my pig. I named it Piggy.

And I have a kangaroo. I love my kangaroo so much. I got my kangaroo from Aunt Bev.

All aboard! To the Home Depot! *toot, toot*

We went to Home Depot tonight. We're starting work on fixing the bathroom. Hooray! As we were driving into the parking lot, the kids asked us why we were there. We explained that we wanted to look at bathtubs and sinks. Scoochy chimed in.

Scoochy: Dad, I was watching TV today.
Dad: What did you watch?
Scoochy: Well, it's a good thing we're coming here, because at Home Depot, they have everything you need.

Folks, that's why marketing firms get paid the big bucks.

Clean up on aisle seven!

I hadn't been grocery shopping in over two weeks and, considering that I usually go every week, I had an enormous list. After getting up late, proctoring homeschool, eating lunch and finishing the shopping list, we got going at the bright and early time of 2:45pm. Perfect timing on my part: just long enough after lunch that everyone is hungry and at that magical hour of the day that even though no one is a nap-taker, we're all on the downward side of the energy mountain.

So, off we go to Winco. As you come in to the huge store, you are lead to your right, through the "Aisle of Wonders." Seasonal items at amazing discounts flank you at both sides. If you continue straight ahead, right before you hit the far wall of the produce section you can see the little Odwalla refrigerator. On occasion, if we are hungry or I'm just a little tired or both as we were today, we stop and pick a treat from the delicious assortment of nourishing beverages. Today we had a unanimous decision of Blueberry. (From experience: If any group of children votes unanimously on any given choice, do not ask any other questions. And do not, under any circumstances, ask "Are you sure?") I said, "Okay. Blueberry B Monster it is."

If an Odwalla beverage is purchased, we have a rule that you must begin drinking it immediately. So, I unscrewed the lid, took a drink (another rule: Mom goes first.) and then gave everyone a turn. Every so often throughout the store someone will say, "I'm thirsty." That is the signal for an Odwalla break.

We were walking westward down aisle seven. We call that the "Soup & Beans" aisle. I had stopped to grab a can of pintos when Princess Cutie Pops whined, "I'm hungry." That is a secondary signal for an Odwalla break. I handed Princess Cutie Pops the bottle, noticing that it was almost empty. "Don't drink too much, sweetie, it's almost gone." She started drinking. After what I thought was long enough, I took it and gave the bottle to Scoochy. She took a small drink then held it out to Tank. For some reason I turned at that moment to grab the aforementioned beans. Why I turned then, I'm not sure. But turn I did. I casually grabbed the beans and as I looked around back at Tank, he brought the bottle to his lips and lifted it completely vertical. The last of the Blueberry B Monster poured down his cheeks, onto his sweatshirt and dripped onto the floor. I had one can of pinto beans in each hand and it happend so fast that even if my hands were empty I'm still not sure I could have prevented the mess.

I put the cans into the cart and knelt down beside Tank, unsure what to do next. A woman who looked like she understood said, "Too bad you don't have a camera." (Had she read my post?) But I did have one. Since I've started blogging, I keep my brother's camera in my purse. (We're currently without one since I broke ours. Who knew Canon didn't make cameras strong enough to handle three falls onto concrete?) So I took a couple pictures then collected my thoughts. I sent Dodge to find an employee with a turquoise apron on and tell them what happened. While he was gone I licked, yes you read that right, licked Tank's face and hands clean of the B Monster. What else could I do? I didn't have any napkins or tissues or anything. My only fear was that someone would think he had puked and see me cleaning him like a mother cat. Luckily, I was done before the employee got there. The mess on the floor was really nothing. He ended up using paper towels to clean it. (If only I had been patient!)

Dodge was really sad that he didn't get any more B Monster. I told him he could suck it off his brother's sweatshirt, but he didn't consider that an option. "Well," I told him, "That's your loss." I turned, grabbed the cart and we kept shopping as if nothing had happened. Because, when you live with us, it really is nothing.

Chopstick Masters

Saturday evening the fam and our friend Trenton went to Mio Sushi on Hawthorne in Portland. Dug and I have decided not to be the kind of parents that only do the fun stuff when our kids aren't around. We had the kids in Portland, sushi was calling, we answered! Since we make it at home at least once a month, it wasn't that different for the kids, anyway. We have chopsticks at home that we use almost everytime we eat anything Asian so the kids have had a bit of practice. Mio Sushi makes "starter" chopsticks for the kids with rubberbands and scraps of paper. They loved it.

Dodge, throwing down a piece of that Terriyaki chicken. Don't you love those bento boxes the kids meals came in? The meal was huge. Rice, salad, chicken and two california rolls. Luckily, we bought only two for the four to share.

Tank didn't want to mess with no "baby" chopsticks. He wanted to eat like a man. So he ripped off the rubberband and pretty much stuffed his face with his hands.

Last, we have Scoochy. She's delicately eating some chicken. Don't let her demeanor fool you though. That little bowl of soy sauce in the middle has wasabi in it. Yep, she's our spice child.

Princess Cutie Pops somehow was missed in every picture. Still not sure how that happened. But, it all evens out. She got her own post yesterday.

The havoc of Princess Cutie Pops

One of the things I've learned in my eight years of mothering is to postpone my direct interaction with my children when they have some sort of calamitous mishap that results in destruction of property or an ungodly mess. To delay my reaction and cool the fire that has ignited within my brain, I take pictures. Before I clean up, discipline or anything, I grab the camera and click away. Let me rephrase that. Before I clean up, discipline or anything I try to grab the camera and click away. Somedays are more successful than others. The great thing is I have evidence. Lots of evidence. Unfortunately, one child more than the others is involved with these fiascos. More often than not, she is the sole perpetrator. So for your viewing pleasure, here is a small sample of the wanton destruction that is Princess Cutie Pops.

First off we have what appears to be only a slight mess. When looked at close though, we see a great deal more. The most obvious is the opened raisin container in front of her. She has happily eaten almost every last one, except for the few that fell onto the floor. Speaking of the floor, she has found the hugely enormous pixie stick that I had hidden from the kids after I had let them each have a little mouthful. Unfortunately it has all dumped out on the floor with the raisins. Pink, sugary powder. Do you know what a pain it is to clean up sugar powder? Get it wet and you have a sticky mess. Keep it dry and you can't get it all up. What you don't see at all, though, is the bag of noodles that have been dumped out behind her. Ahhh, youth.


A simple yogurt container, in the hands of Princess Cutie Pops can turn into a weapon of sizable destruction. The only saving grace is that this happened in the kitchen and not on the carpet. Look at her, she's thinking, "Now, how did this happen?"


Next is somewhat my fault. The kids live in a loft-like room with a half wall that surrounds the staircase. I thought a plant would look nice there. Princess Cutie Pops had other ideas.



One bag of cornstarch + one red-headed girl = the picture at left. Cornstarch is even harder to clean up than pink pixie candy dust. Use water and it turns into a cementy paste, sweep and your entire room is dusted with white powder.


What do mung beans, ground black pepper and jasmine rice all have in common? They make an excellent medium for drawing designs on the kitchen floor. I count my blessings though. They are much easier to clean up than cornstarch or pixie powder.


And now for the piece de Resistance. It has been a few years since this masterful desecration, and yet the feelings of nausea and disbelief still accompany my viewing of this picture. I won't tell you what it is exactly, but I'll give you some hints. It is readily available at regular intervals throughout the day. It has a distinctive odor. It is something that you never imagine you will have to clean off your walls before you have children.

That's it. A window into the unbelievable abilities of Princess Cutie Pops. If you want to have the little sweetie in your life, it comes with these "extras." But in the end, I can tell you it's worth it.

"Let's go to school to get some knowledge!"

The above quote from Finding Nemo's Marlin sums up our sentiments for our home school science co-op.

Both public/private schools and home schooling have their pros and cons. Home schooling lacks "organized" field trips (although we take tons of "unofficial" field trips every month), learning the protocols of a classroom setting, and other things like plays and public speaking. Public/private schools lack, among other things, flexibility, custom teaching for specific learning styles and the ability to let a child discover the subjects they are passionate about and pursue them as long as they desire.

Since we are home schooling, we found a co-op of other families would handle both the difficult things to incorporate into our home schooling situation all the while maintaining the benefits of teaching our own kids.

These are snapshots of our classes this last week. In the top two Dodge and Scoochy are making clay models of the brain.

The third one shows Princess Cutie Pops' class getting its grub on. Brain cupcakes are the snack item for the day. Can you guess what we studied this week? (answer below)

In the final photo, Tank, ladies' man, escorts his adorable pink boot-clad friend throughout the building. They walked, hand-in-hand, for at least 15 minutes. Can I get an "awwwww"?

answer: the brain

Trick or Treat!

Our Halloween ended up being a complete sugar success. (That is how you’re supposed to measure it, right?) We walked in a three-block radius and returned with four buckets brimming. (One of the few things that is great about living in a high density housing zone.)

Here’s the lineup:
First up, we've got Dodge the Panther. I spent all my creativity sewing the costumes. There was none left for the makeup. That and I forgot to buy little crayon sticks. Oh well. He was still happy.

Next, we have Scoochy the Japanese girl. She told me she wanted to wear a "pretty dress that wraps around and make my face all white." In all honesty, she's a geisha, but I feel much better saying my six year old dressed as a Japanese girl. Oh, brag time here, I made that kimono out of two scraps of fabric. If you know how much I sew, you will understand how Jesus himself must have came down from the Right Hand and helped me.

No, that is not a wig. Princess Cutie Pops wanted her hair to be purple. Unfortunately the spray color was either mislabeled or the labeler is color-blind. Either way she was happy. So for the night Princess Cutie Pops really was a princess!

Last but not least, Tank wanted to be Yoda. The picture sucks, sorry. But he actually has little green ears that looked pretty good for cardstock cutouts. I also made his coat out of a single kitchen towel. The picture really doesn’t do him justice. Everyone we met knew he was the little Jedi. While we were walking our neighborhood Tank would randomly say, “Mom, don’t let any guys touch my face.” or “Mom, make sure the guys don’t touch my coat.” Whoever "the guys" were, he was very protective of his makeup and coat.

Problem Solving Tank-style

Warning: The following post contains remarks about the male anatomy (through the mouth of a three year old).

We currently only have one bathroom. We gutted our main bathroom because of water issues and for various reasons we haven't fixed it yet. That means that in our 2-story house, the only working toilet is in the basement. For seven people.

Tank, the youngest member of our mob, therefore has his own private potty chair that sits in the dining room. Easy access prevents accidents. At least that's the theory. The following conversation transpired during one of his "#2 sessions."

Tank: Mommy, are these my balls? (investigating and grabbing his body in a way that would make a grown man wince)
Mommy: Yes, Tank. Those are your balls.
Tank: Can I get them out? (continuing the investigation)
Mommy: No, sweetie. They have to stay in there.
Tank: *pauses* I know! (looks up at me) I can get them out through my penis!

Now that's creativity! That's problem-solving! That's looking at a situation and seeing the possibilities! Unfortunately that doesn't solve his problem today. But I like to think of it as a glimpse into the future as to what type of man he's going to be. The world may tell him "no," but he won't accept it. He'll find a way.

Now, if he can only survive himself until then.